


Gold Rush

by SweetSorcery



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Credence Barebone, Bottom Original Percival Graves, Classroom Sex, Come Shot, Coming Out, Credence Barebone Heals, Credence Barebone-centric, Daddy Kink, Don’t copy to another site, Face-Fucking, First Kiss, Forehead Kisses, Getting Together, Hand Jobs, Kissing, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Male Slash, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Neck Kissing, Original Percival Graves is a Softie, Past Abuse, Past Relationship in Porn Movie only, Pining, Porn Video, Porn Watching, Porn with Feelings, Professor Original Percival Graves, Protective Credence Barebone, Protective Original Percival Graves, Rimming, Romance, Scent Kink, Scents & Smells, Shyness, Slash, Smitten Credence Barebone, Smitten Original Percival Graves, Student Credence Barebone, Switching, Teacher-Student Relationship, Tender Sex, Tenderness, Top Credence Barebone, Top Original Percival Graves, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-13 17:02:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18035600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetSorcery/pseuds/SweetSorcery
Summary: Scholarship student Credence Barebone gets hold of an item which turns his crush on his sexy Art History professor into something more and rather desperate. (This is the kinkier version of "Lust for Life".)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written in response to a very specific challenge on Twitter. We decided we wanted bottom!Professor Graves with a past in porn, and his smitten student Credence Barebone being, or becoming, aware of the fact; part of the challenge is optional watersports. We even came up with a couple of potential early porn partners for Graves; kindly picture present day Skeet Ulrich as River Gold, in this case. :)
> 
> There is NO incest in this fic, but just so you can't say you weren't warned: the porn movie in this story _could_ be taken to depict a fake incestuous relationship. I should probably also warn you that I have never written a porn film scenario before and never thought I would, but it wouldn't be a challenge otherwise, right?
> 
> **Note also that this version of the story features watersports.** There's an alternate version of this story called [**Lust for Life**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18037571) that does _not_ , if it's not your thing. 
> 
>   
> 

It started when Credence Barebone, scholarship student and finally free of his foster mother's reign of terror, first ventured into _that_ shop as his first true act of personal freedom. That shop which displayed items in the window that had made him stare and nearly drop his shoulder bag the first time he had passed it. That shop called Creamy Peach he only passed if he took a long walk well out of his way. He had done so for three consecutive days before he finally ventured inside.

He winced when the bell above the door jingled loudly, and looked around nervously. He needn't have worried—the shop was empty except for a middle-aged man behind the counter, glancing up at him with a grin.

"Need any help?"

"N-no, thank you, sir."

The man chuckled. "Sir, I like that. Polite. Browse all you like, kid. If you buy anything, I'm gonna need to see I.D. though."

Credence nodded, pushing up his glasses. "I understand, sir. I'm over 18."

"Okay, that won't be a problem then."

Credence ducked between two shelves, out of sight of the counter. He had come in with nothing specific in mind except to satisfy his curiosity about certain... things he'd been forbidden to even think about at home, before the scholarship, before moving into the college dorm. Things like the fact that he barely noticed girls but couldn't tear his eyes off the other boys in the communal showers. The fact that he felt shivery when he saw businessmen in the coffee shop where he worked part time, rolling up their shirt sleeves at the end of a long day and brushing back their well-groomed hair. Most of all, the fact that he concentrated harder on watching his Art History professor, and the way he moved between desks, than he did on the things written on the blackboard. It was a good thing he grasped lesson contents quickly, and Art History certainly wasn't merely his favourite class because he found the subject fascinating.

He had absentmindedly walked past a dizzying array of sex toys which made him flush once he properly took note of them, and had ended up in a section of Blu-rays and DVDs. His eyes widened at the sight of some of the covers, in horror even, and he quickly zoomed in on the gay section. He carefully picked up the odd appealing looking disc, wondering whether he could possibly get away with watching something like this on the second-hand laptop his social worker, Miss Goldstein, had suggested he buy himself with the money made working at Kowalski's.

He thought of late nights, when his roommates were out with their girlfriends or just getting drunk somewhere, and how he'd be left on his own, and the idea of watching something Mary Lou would consider the work of the devil was downright thrilling.

There was a reasonably large selection, split into smaller sub-categories, but it took him mere moments to decide what interested him the most. He pulled three discs out of the section labelled _Daddies and Twinks_ and examined them more closely, feeling equal parts hot and ashamed. He discarded the first one right away, as it clearly involved corporal punishment for titillation—it could never be that for him—but the other two looked more promising, especially this one... which...

He squeaked, staring at the box in his hand in disbelief. The third disc case nearly slipped from his suddenly nerveless fingers, and he quickly pushed it back onto a random shelf without looking. He couldn't stop staring at the box in his hand. It was a feature entitled _Gold Rush_ , and the cover photo was of two men with maybe 15 or 20 years of age difference between them. Both were incredibly handsome, with the older one looking ruggedly sexy with tidy facial hair and flashing dark eyes. He towered over the man who really caught Credence's eye because, unless his five weeks so far this term of constant, adoring observation had been for naught, the man kneeling in front of him and gazing up with a teasing smirk was a younger version of none other than his Art History Professor Percival Graves.

His hands were shaking and his mouth felt as dry as the Arizona desert all of a sudden. There was almost no doubt in his mind: the smooth-faced, dark-haired twink on the box was Professor Graves, at roughly Credence's age. He would recognise his warm dark eyes, his heavy brows, and the attractive set of beauty marks on his cheek, anywhere. As for the rest of him... Credence flushed a deeper shade of red, his clothes feeling too tight in all the wrong places... he wouldn't know, but if he bought this disc, then...

The names of the stars meant nothing to him, but they were clearly made up: River Gold and Raphael Rimmer. He supposed people were hardly likely to use their real names when making porn.

He looked around guiltily. God, he'd have to be so careful. If this was Professor Graves, and he was so nearly sure it was, then he would have to guard this DVD with his life; clearly, this was a part of the professor's background that was unknown, or Credence doubted he'd be teaching at a stuffy college like his. He could see no other copies of the disc, and an exhaustive search revealed no other boxes with this man, probable-Graves, on the cover. Clearly, he had to buy this just to make sure Professor Graves wouldn't get into trouble, if this fell into the wrong hands. Anyone from college might come here and see it.

He thought quickly. There was a dusty DVD rental store just around the corner, he'd seen it walking past. They always had a bargain table; he could buy some old ex-rental DVD, something harmless and ordinary, and swap the boxes. He'd have to throw this one out, sadly, but he'd have the whole feature to watch. Again and again. He chewed on his lower lip until it hurt and took the disc to the counter, putting it down along with his I.D.

The man gave him a look and a smirk. "Gee, and you look like a regular college kid. Although... a damn sight prettier than most."

"Excuse me?" Credence asked, his voice cracking. He blinked behind his glasses.

The man laughed. "Hey, I don't judge. Porn is porn to me, and if you're into the kinky stuff, it's nothing to me."

Credence shifted nervously. "I don't understand. Isn't this just... uh, regular porn?"

A broad grin was all the answer he needed. Evidently, it wasn't, though why, Credence couldn't imagine. Maybe it was because of the age difference between the leads? Yes, that had to be it. He refused to feel guilty about the fact that it was a big reason he'd picked the disc up in the first place.

"Sure it is, kid. Sure it is. Just regular porn."

* * *

Credence spent two days carrying around a sun-bleached DVD case proclaiming to contain _Lust for Life_ —an acclaimed biopic about Vincent Van Gogh—in his backpack; he was a little proud of himself for finding a movie about an artist, and no one would question seeing the box among an Art History student's belongings.

He was desperate to get enough time alone to watch his new acquisition, preferably before his next Art History class. He had to know for sure, one way or the other, though as much as he was dying of curiosity, he had no idea what he would do with his newfound knowledge about Professor Graves.

He saw the man, once, during those two days, sweeping across the corridor some way in front of him, dark hair perfect, casual but well-fitting jeans, navy blue shirt and matching blazer. As always, just to see Professor Graves at a distance made Credence's heart beat faster.

That night, he promised himself. That night he would find an opportunity to watch _Gold Rush_.

His dorm mates had plans, thank heavens, and Credence, as usual, bowed out of them. He enjoyed the fact that, unlike back at the church his foster mother had run, here he had a choice whether to be around other people or not. And he simply wasn't that social an animal, even when he didn't have a very special reason for wanting to be on his own.

He gave it ten minutes after everyone had left before he inserted the disc into his laptop's drive. He spent the time it took to get started getting comfortable on his bed, pulse racing and hands shaking.

 _Gold Rush_ started with a loud, flashy announcement of: starring River Gold, and a less flashy announcement of: Raphael Rimmer, which Credence thought somewhat unfair. He had to admit, however, that River Gold, who walked onto the screen dressed in a rugged plaid shirt, black T-shirt and jeans, certainly looked the part: well-built, handsome, a little dangerous. He removed his shirt, revealing muscular arms, and stretched in the middle of the small hut he'd just entered.

There was a muffled sound, and he smirked at a closed door. "You okay in there, son?" His voice was deep and gruff. He chuckled.

Credence swallowed hard.

There was a suppressed moan from the other room, and River Gold went for the door, which led into a small bedroom with a rustic wooden bed, on top of which lay the other man from the cover of the disc. He was tied to the bed by his hands and feet, wearing a pair of cut-off shorts no doubt anachronistic to the setting of the story. Nothing else. He had a gag tied around his mouth—a bandanna, by the looks of it.

Credence still couldn't be 100% sure. He watched River Gold walk across the room and scoff down at the young man on the bed, who glared up at him.

"I guess I'd better take this out, or that mouth of yours won't be much use to me." He removed the gag and tossed it across the room.

"Bastard!" the man on the bed growled, but he was smiling.

"I don't think your mother would like you talking that way, kid."

The 'kid' snorted. "I don't think she'd like what you're about to do either."

"Fair point," River Gold admitted, looking and sounding amused. "Good thing she's not home."

Credence leaned closer to the screen, peering at it, heart racing.

River Gold looked down at his _captive_ with a smirk, then went to work on the closure of the frayed shorts, snapping open the belt and the buttons and yanking them down over the prone man's hips.

Credence gulped. Possible Professor Graves was already hard, his cock standing straight up the moment he was freed from his clothes, and Credence's cock strained against the closure of his jeans in sympathy.

River Gold pulled up his T-shirt then and, within less than a minute, was entirely naked and climbing onto the bed, holding onto the head board and kneeling over the man lying between his legs, tip of his cock hovering in front of his lips.

"Oh my God," Credence whispered when the other man opened his mouth and the hard, angry red cock was shoved inside. He pressed a hand between his legs.

The camera helpfully moved around during the blow job, covering every angle, in close up, and yes, yes... Credence's eyes widened, much like those of the young man on the bed as he struggled to work the thick cock in his mouth without choking. He'd recognise those eyes anywhere, and those cheek moles. Jesus.

"Professor," Credence whispered, twice as hard within seconds.

Graves moaned around the cock in his mouth, eyes squeezing closed, as if in reaction to being recognised.

"Oh yeah, son, that's good. Take it all." River Gold thrust, rather too harshly, Credence thought, into Graves' mouth, and it was only when semen started trickling out around the sides of the man's cock that Credence fully realised he was coming inside Graves' mouth.

He whimpered, rubbing at himself over his pants furiously, pressing down hard when the camera swung around again, focussing on Graves' cock dripping sporadically onto his belly.

There were voices in the corridor outside, and Credence paused the film and slammed his laptop shut, but whoever it was, they weren't coming in, and he took the opportunity to take a few deep, calming breaths.

Professor Graves... handsome, kind, smart, slightly distracted and very distracting, Professor Graves, who had taken an interest in him from the start, who knew about Mary Lou and where he'd come from... Professor Graves used to work in the porn industry, used to be on the receiving end of this kind of thing, used to be... a bottom, at least sometimes, Credence thought. He had no hands on experience of anything, but he'd been reading up on... things. His mind was reeling.

The voices outside had receded into the distance when he opened his laptop and resumed playing the film.

Rimmer, or rather... Graves, was untied and flipped over on the bed, and the other man, River Gold, spread his legs wide, having shifted down on the bed.

Credence assumed excitedly that he'd be reaching for lube next, but instead, he pulled the professor's hips up off the bed and dove down to lick between his arse cheeks, an action which resulted in a long, drawn-out moan from the prone man.

"Oh God, oh Christ," Credence muttered to himself. He paused the film, jumped up and hurriedly changed into his pyjamas, before climbing back into the bed. If he stayed confined in jeans, he's be in real pain soon.

He restarted the film and watched River Gold draw back far enough to give the cameraman, and Credence, every opportunity to zoom in on the professor's spread cheeks, his hole glistening with spit and so tempting. And, after a quick smack on his right buttock which made Credence jump and his mattress creak, River Gold went back to work, tongue thrusting in and out, while the professor moaned and whimpered, cock still dripping and neglected between his legs and just visible from that angle.

Credence whined in sympathy, desperately wishing he could do something about that neglect. Well, he could do something about his own. Feeling guilty, he pushed his pyjama pants down under his sheets and closed his hand around his shaft; it was hot, slippery already from watching his favourite professor being used like this.

By the time River Gold had finished tonguing the professor's hole open, and had started sliding strong, rough-looking fingers into him, using liberal doses of lube, Credence had a sore neck from leaning in so close to the screen. His glasses were slipping down his nose, his cock was wet and sore from alternating between fast, rough strokes and being squeezed tight to keep from coming. Not yet, God, not yet. Not until his professor came, only then...

When River Gold thrust his once again hard cock inside Graves, pulling him up and back against him with his legs spread, the camera rushing around to a front on view from the headboard, Credence was desperate. He was panting, squeezing himself painfully tight. When a large paw closed around Graves' twitching cock, beginning to fist it mercilessly, Credence did the same with his own, eyes fixed on the continued drool of semen on Graves' cock. When he began to spurt, panting hard, Credence's eyes flicked up, and it was as if Graves was looking right back at him.

Credence groaned, spilling over his hand and making an utter mess of his pyjama pants.

It took him ten minutes before he'd calmed down enough to clean himself up and change into different pyjamas, at which point he closed his laptop, set it aside, and lay down, nerves still thrumming. He couldn't get Professor Graves' eyes out of his mind, the way they had softened and gone hazy as he came, looking at Credence.

But he hadn't looked at him. Credence had barely been alive when that film had been made and, even now, he doubted his professor felt anything but kind interest in his best student, no matter how often he lingered by his desk, let their fingers graze when handing him papers, smiled at him across the class room and when they passed each other in the corridors, and complimented his insights in his essays. Credence's eyes widened, even in the dark. Did Professor Graves do any of those things with the other students? Surely, he did.

Credence was wide awake, and it was too early for him to have any hope of going to sleep _now_. He was wound up as tight as a drum. His dorm mates probably wouldn't be back for another hour or so. He reached for the laptop again and resumed the film from where he'd left off.

The scene had changed, and the two men were on a river bank now, panning for gold, by the looks of it, interspersed with various breaks to take deep gulps from water flasks. Of course, that was where the title came from, Credence told himself, though he was fairly sure gold prospectors never used to look like River Gold and Raphael Rimmer, and probably didn't work topless, with suspenders holding up their low-riding jeans over which they wore chaps reaching well up to the tops of their thighs.

Graves expressed his frustration with the lack of gold booty rather vehemently, and Credence smiled at the similarity between his tone of voice there and the way he berated the worst students in his course. That aside though, there was a sharpness to Graves at that age which had turned into gentle softness at his age now.

Credence knew him to be 40 now. Back then, at 20 or a little older, his features were edgier but still smooth and gentle. The photography had to be rather good in this film too, Credence thought, because there was a warm glow to Graves' skin as he panned in the sunlight, crouched over by the river. He looked artistic. He looked... beautiful.

River Gold seemed to be doing better on the prospecting front, looking triumphant as he set aside his pan and assessed Graves with interest.

'Oh, oh,' Credence thought.

"Not doing so well, son?" River Gold asked with challenge in his voice.

"No, daddy."

Credence's jaw dropped. _Daddy?_ Okay, he'd got the movie out of the _Daddies and Twinks_ section, but he hadn't expected it to play quite that literally. Putting it together with the dialogue from earlier on though... He was beginning to see why the shop clerk had smirked so knowingly. He'd never be able to show his face in that shop again. Not that he would ever need anything from there, after this movie.

"How about I share some of my riches?" River Gold said, rather suggestively.

Credence widened his legs, hooking his thumb behind the elastic on his pants, glad he had another clean pair of pyjama pants available and waiting.

Graves, kneeling at his feet, smirked. "You're so good to me, daddy." He looked up at the other man as he reached up to undo his jeans, fumbling inside for a minute or so before withdrawing the limp shaft.

Credence was surprised River Gold wasn't hard as a rock, being looked at that way by the professor. He soon found out why.

"Show me your cock, son. Are you hard for daddy?" River Gold growled.

Graves nodded, bit his lip, and undid his jeans. He was, indeed, hard, and began to stroke himself lazily under the watchful eyes of the man standing over him. He was leaning back, the sun caressing his golden tanned skin, one suspender sliding off his shoulder from the movements of his hand.

Credence was licking his lips, gaze torn back and forth between the stroking hand and the blissful face, wishing he was there and could lean in and help—caress that beautiful skin, lick the drops off the head of Graves' cock, kiss the parted lips. God, he was hard again, so hard, stroking himself as he watched Graves doing the same.

River Gold was playing with his own cock, which still wasn't hard, much to Credence's confusion, especially as he aimed it towards Graves' chest.

"Go on, daddy, I'm ready for it," Graves said in a voice which sent shivers down Credence's spine.

Ready for what though?

River Gold smirked down at him and, with a sigh of sheer relief, began to piss on Graves' chest, urine pooling briefly in the hollow of his neck before rolling down over his abs. He directed the stream over one nipple, then the other, then over his stomach and, with a low groan from Graves, who was fisting himself hard and fast while stroking the wetness into his skin, he finished in an arc all over the hard cock in Graves' hand.

And Credence came so hard, he almost blacked out for a moment, even while thinking, 'Oh my God, that's... that's just... that _should_ be disgusting.'

But it wasn't. And he knew, without a doubt, that facing the man he already couldn't stop thinking about would be an adventure now.

* * *

Credence loved Art History, for all the difficulty it presented to him due to being taught by the man of his dreams. To keep his attention on the subject had been a challenge from the very beginning of term when he'd started college and Professor Graves had swept into the room.

Today, for all his mental preparation, calming breaths and the large glass of ice water he'd drunk right before class, he could barely keep from running away before Graves arrived, unreasonably convinced that the man would somehow be able to tell, with one look at his flustered face, that Credence had come twice last night, and once again this morning in the shower, because of his old porn movie.

When Professor Graves came in, navy blue trousers and shirt—sleeves rolled up, which always spelled trouble for Credence—and dark grey vest, Credence all but whimpered.

He kept his head low as much as he could, only daring to look up when Professor Graves was walking away towards the front of the class and couldn't see his longing looks. How was it possible? He'd had a crush on the man since the first day, and now, having seen him do those... things, with a man... it was as if some kind of dam had broken inside him. He tried to tell himself that, just because Professor Graves had been in gay porn years ago, it didn't necessarily mean he was even gay. Did it? He'd read somewhere that some straight men made gay porn.

Even if he was gay, it certainly didn't mean he was attracted to Credence. Why would he be? He was just a scruffily dressed, still underfed student who barely got by on his scholarship and the money he made at the coffee shop. He wore nerdy glasses, because they were the cheapest ones he could afford just after starting college. Why would Professor Graves want _him_?

Percival Graves, who was gesturing to the blackboard, asking questions, smiling when a correct answer was given, had no inkling of the thoughts racing through Credence's head; and yet, Credence was almost dizzy with them.

"Who can tell me what's unusual about the block of marble from which Michelangelo sculpted his David?" Professor Graves asked then.

When no one had an answer available immediately, Credence ducked his head. He knew, but he doubted very much he would be able to string two words together in the professor's presence today.

"Credence, how about you?"

The way Graves said his name had always made Credence feel as if it was a thing of beauty, rather than a ridiculous religious mockery devised by his foster mother. Shaped by Professor Graves' lips, it sounded like a delicious sweet.

He stared at the man, breathing hard. "Pro-professor?"

Graves smiled kindly at him. "I know you're our resident expert on Michelangelo, Credence, I'm sure you know what's special about the marble from which he sculpted David."

Credence felt like a fish on dry land, flopping around uselessly while the rest of the class stared at him and waited for him to die. Worst... while Professor Graves waited, and began to look somewhat disappointed. That he couldn't bear.

He cleared his throat and started, somewhat croakily, "The, um... the block of marble was discarded by two other sculptors, s-sir, and discarded as being too... too _hard_ to work with. It sat un-untouched for 10 years, and Michelangelo finally worked it... into... into David after 40 years of its existence."

Professor Graves smiled softly at him, and Credence's heart was in his throat. "Yes, Credence, excellent." He looked around the class and said, "May we all become a work of art in someone's eyes at the age of 40."

Everyone laughed, except Credence. The age of 40 was a fair way off for his fellow students; Professor Graves, Credence knew, had turned 40 the previous month.

Credence melted. His concentration for the rest of the lesson was in ruins. He lost all ability to even pretend not to follow Professor Graves' every step and every gesture, and to hang on his every word. He knew, instinctively, that he was obvious enough for the man to notice it, but he couldn't help himself.

If he had a pedestal, he would have offered the man a hand to help him up onto it.


	2. Chapter 2

By the end of class, Credence was a mess, and very glad it was the last class of the day. His hands were shaking so badly, he could barely manage to get his things into his bag.

He sensed the presence beside him before he even looked up. He had to close his eyes for a moment. The scent of a winter forest, and something spicy, accompanied Professor Graves wherever he went, and so did a strange aura of warmth, though Credence knew that might just be the way he felt about the man.

"Credence, are you all right?" That soft tone of voice again, caressing his name.

Credence took a shaky breath. "Yes, professor, of course." He looked into the concerned brown eyes—behind those elegant, round-framed glasses now which Graves only wore to examine things closely—and faltered. "I... I'm fine."

"You're not though, I can tell. You've been distracted throughout class."

Credence didn't know how to respond to that. He always was, during this class, though today was certainly special. "I didn't sleep too well, sir." As a matter of fact, he had slept very well, at least after the first two orgasms, but certainly not once he'd woken up again at about 4 in the morning, remembering every detail of the film.

Professor Graves leaned closer, left hip on the edge of Credence's desk, which allowed him to peer up at into the downcast face when he tilted his head; Credence, meanwhile, couldn't stop staring at the way the dark trousers stretched over the man's hips and resting thigh. "You know you can talk to me, Credence, about anything at all. I'm aware your home situation was bad, and if there are any problems with that... If your foster mother is still giving you trouble—"

"It's not that, professor, really. I live in the dorms here now," Credence assured hurriedly. He realised his mistake too late.

"I'm glad to hear that, but you admit there _is_ something wrong."

Credence looked into the kind face helplessly, fingers gripping his bag tight. He threw a swift glance towards the classroom doors, eyeing his escape route. Everyone else had left, and they were alone now. Oh God, they were _alone_! The room suddenly felt the size of a broom cupboard, and he could hardly breathe, feeling a panic attack coming on.

"Credence." Professor Graves touched his upper arm lightly, and the barely there touch felt like fire through both layers of clothing.

"Oh, professor," Credence whispered brokenly, leaning in. He stopped himself a moment before his lips touched the slack mouth, slightly open in surprise and possibly shock. He pretended he had lost his balance, smiled awkwardly, and drew back, shocked at himself and afraid of what Professor Graves might do. "I'm sorry. I have to go, sir."

He gripped his bag and tore it off the desk, but it got caught on Professor Graves' knee, and something slid out and onto the floor. For a moment, neither of them moved. Professor Graves was staring at him as if he'd never seen him before, paying no attention to the fallen item, and Credence would have run from the room in tears, leaving behind whatever he'd dropped, but then he saw the last thing he wanted to see: the _Lust for Life_ disc case which hid _Gold Rush_ inside. He stooped quickly and rose with it held tightly in his hand.

Professor Graves glanced down and his heavy brows rose. "Wherever did you manage to find that?"

Credence clutched the innocuous looking disc so hard the plastic case nearly cracked. "In a small rental store near..." Near the store where I bought your porn movie; he didn't say that part. "Near here," he said lamely.

"I've been looking for a copy of _Lust for Life_ for a long while. Is the disc in good condition?"

"It's perfect," Credence muttered foolishly.

Graves smiled. "I would love to borrow it some time, if I may?" 

Before Credence could stop him, still distracted by the way the word 'lust' had rolled off Graves' tongue and the pleased sparkle in his eyes, the man had taken the case from his suddenly limp grasp and opened it. Credence closed his eyes and awaited his fate.

There was a sharp intake of breath, then nothing for a long moment, then a deep sigh. "I see." The sound of the case snapping closed again was deafening in the silence. It made Credence open his eyes, and they met the extremely sad ones of Professor Graves.

"Sir," he breathed, at a loss about the sadness.

"Credence, I'm sure you were horrified to find this, and I can't imagine how you did. It's the only time I did something like that, and.... well, never mind that. I know about your religious upbringing, and..." Professor Graves ran a hand through his dark, lightly silver-streaked hair. "Look, I have no right to ask this of you and, for all I know, you were heading to the dean's office with that right now, but will you let me resign instead?"

"Resign?" Credence asked so softly, it came out barely sounding like a word. "You mean _leave_? No, professor, please, you can't!" He clutched the arm closest to him with both hands.

Professor Graves looked baffled. "You haven't watched it yet," he said, clearly assuming it to be the only explanation for Credence's words and actions.

"Yes, sir, I have. I watched it last night." He flushed. "That's why I made sure to change the case."

Professor Graves averted his eyes with another sigh, rubbing his forehead with his right hand. "I'm so sorry about that, Credence. Who... who gave it to you? Whose idea of a terrible joke—"

"No, sir, please. Listen to me," Credence urged, and Professor Graves met his eyes again. "No one gave it to me. I... I bought it." The widening of the brown eyes made him continue, "I bought it because I saw the cover, and I thought it might be you, and then... and then I watched it, and I was sure, and..." He fought to breathe.

"Why did you buy it?" Professor Graves asked, sounding very stressed, and rather out of breath himself; not at all his usual calm self. "Credence, I'll never ask anything of you again, but please tell me that."

"Oh sir, I..." Credence, faced with the dreadful prospect of Graves actually leaving because of his discovery, decided to throw caution to the wind. He pulled the disc from his professor's fingers, set it aside, and then interlaced their fingers on the desk, causing a surprised gasp. 

He couldn't meet Graves' eyes when he started to explain. "I had to. Ever since the beginning of term, I haven't been able to stop looking at you, and thinking about you, and hoping you'd notice me, even though I'm just..." He gulped, leaning in close enough to smell Graves' fresh, woodsy cologne, which grew more intense, as if the skin under it was warming. He tried to take strength from the comforting scent. "Sir, you're so wonderful. So handsome and kind."

"Credence." Professor Graves' voice cracked a little on his name. "I'm your professor."

Credence inhaled the scent of the man along the side of his face, the tip of his nose nearly nuzzling his cheek. He was dizzy with his proximity. "Sir, I'm an adult. I'm of age." When he heard the definite increase of his professor's respiration, he added, "And... and you're the reason I finally know what I want."

There was a soft, bitten off moan which sent shivers down Credence's spine, before Graves said in a low rumble, "And what is it you want, Credence?"

Credence let his lips brush gently against a slightly stubbly cheek, causing a gasp. "You, sir. Always you. And now that I... I've seen..." Heat bathed his face. "Oh sir, I can think of nothing else."

Fingers were suddenly in the hair at the back of his head and, for a terrible moment, Credence expected to be roughly yanked back, but they merely tipped his head, and then soft lips were whispering, "Do you know how hard I've tried to treat you like any other student? To see you like any other student?"

"Sir," Credence gasped, eyes fluttering closed at the warm breath in his ear.

"But you're not, Credence. You're nothing like anyone else. You're always different, always more than I expect, more than I'm prepared for." Professor Graves' fingers stroked through his hair now, while his lips brushed gently across Credence's temple and his forehead. When Credence whimpered, he tenderly slipped the glasses off Credence's face, then set them down, before his mouth moved over the outer corner of his cheekbone. "Do you know that I spend half of this class fighting the urge to stare at you, to find excuses to touch you? Do you know what a struggle it is to remember there's anyone else here with us?"

"No, sir," Credence gasped, eyes closed, feeling vulnerable and yet strangely free without his glasses. "I didn't... I didn't know," he said softly, before adding a disbelieving, "why?"

Professor Graves' thumb was following in the path of his lips now, while they were attending to the other cheekbone and whispering against it, "You don't know?"

Credence started to shake his head gently, but the movement was stilled by fingers cupping his chin, and Professor Graves' breath was warm on his lips. They parted in an attempt to drink it in as his eyes flew open, meeting the professor's, which were so very dark now. There was a soft groan.

"Credence, how can you not know?" The dark gaze drank in every detail of his face until Credence was shaking. "How can you not know how beautiful you are?" The hand on his chin turned a little, index and middle finger pressing down on his lower lip, drawing it down further, and Graves' eyes dropped to Credence's open mouth, looking inside it with an intensity that was almost obscene. "So perfect."

Credence's eyelashes fluttered.

"So sweet."

Credence took a chance then, closing his lips over the two fingers, tongue flicking against them.

"So..." Professor Graves stared at him like a tiger might stare, if his prey walked up to him willingly and lay down before him. "So very tempting."

Credence sucked the two fingers then, hard, and as quickly as they were withdrawn, the professor's mouth took his, both of his hands gripping Credence's head.

Knees so weak that he needed his desk for support, Credence swayed forward, until Professor Graves shifted, not interrupting the kiss, trapping him against the desk.

Credence set his palms down on either side of himself, just in time for Graves to lift him up, pressing forward between his parted thighs, and Credence raised his hands to clutch at the broad shoulders, returning the kiss as best he could. His professor's taste was intoxicating, his lips tender and forceful at once, his tongue relentless, and his hands were hot on his back, sliding up and down as if unable to settle on a spot of which to take possession.

"Oh, sir!" Credence gasped when his mouth was deserted in favour of his throat being lavished with attention.

Graves took his slim hips and drew him forward, closer to the edge of the desk again, grinding against him even as he slipped his right hand under Credence's left thigh, raising it a little, changing the angle at which their hips collided. He knew exactly what he was doing, and Credence moaned.

"You're so hard, Credence, so hard already."

Credence croaked, "That's what you do to me, sir."

A soft moan against his throat raised goose bumps on his skin. "We can't do this here, Credence," Professor Graves said, even while thrusting into the warmth of Credence's parted legs, hard against him. "Anyone might come in."

"But you want to?" Credence asked, eager and hopeful.

Professor Graves said huskily, "I want you more than I've ever wanted anyone."

"More than River Gold?" Credence couldn't help asking.

There was a sound that was half laugh, half scoff. "Yes, Credence, yes. That was a job, nothing more, and a long time ago." Professor Graves took hold of the nape of his neck and looked deep into his eyes. "But you... you beautiful, precious boy..." Credence swallowed hard under the praise. "You rob me of my sleep at night."

"Sir," Credence breathed, tipping his head until it rested against the bared forearm, rubbing his cheek against the soft hair and warm skin there like a kitten. The warm palm on his nape squeezed.

"Are you sure you want this? Really sure?" When Credence nodded at once, Professor Graves smiled, looking relieved. "We'll have to be discreet about it while you're my student."

"I understand, sir." Credence fought the urge to beam like a fool. The implication that this was something with a future to the professor as well, that he knew Credence well enough to know it would be to them both, made him feel elated.

Drawing Credence close enough to murmur in his ear, Professor Graves told him, "I would give you my address and ask you to come there, but I don't think we can wait that long."

"No, sir," Credence agreed in a rush.

"No." Professor Graves was breathing hard. "I'll get my car and drive around to the back of the building. I'll wait for you near the bus stop by the gym, in about ten minutes?"

"Yes. Yes, please."

The professor drew back just far enough to meet his eyes, and they shared a smile and, as one, they moved in for another deep, searching kiss before Professor Graves tenderly replaced the glasses on Credence's nose, brushed back the errant strand of hair caught behind them, and then they briefly parted ways.

* * *

Graves' blue sedan was parked a few yards behind the bus stop when Credence stepped out from behind the gym. They had been inside the classroom long enough for most of the college to have dispersed, and there were only a few students milling about in the distance.

He slipped into the passenger seat quickly, smiling at Professor Graves, who squeezed his knee and then tapped it with his fingertips. "Seat belt."

Credence laughed softly and obeyed. "Yes, sir." For the duration of the drive, the hand remained on his knee when it wasn't needed otherwise, and he traced his fingers over the knuckles, enjoying the point of contact while waiting for more.

The professor didn't live far away, in a leafy cul-de-sac. His home was a smallish, but well-kept place with an elegantly understated interior.

That was as much as Credence was able to take in before he was backed against the low hall table next to the front door and kissed hard. He vaguely heard keys sliding off the table with a jingle, probably scratching the wood, and his shoulder bag slid to the floor with a thump. He wrapped his arms around Professor Graves' neck as soon as they were free.

"Forgive me if I don't give you the tour first," Graves said roughly, then kissed him again.

When he was next granted a moment's breath, Credence gasped, "Later."

"Hmm," Professor Graves agreed. He pushed the loose plaid jacket off Credence's shoulders. Then he slid warm hands under his T-shirt and, when Credence obediently raised his arms, drew it off over his head, leaving his soft dark hair dishevelled and standing on end. He smoothed it back and smiled. "Damn, you're cute."

Blushing, Credence started to unbutton the dark grey vest, and it joined his jacket and T-shirt on the floor. In no time, they were both naked from the waist up, and while Credence nibbled hungrily at his professor's lower lip, hot hands slid up to his shoulder blades. The left one moved back down his side and forward, tracing his too prominent ribs before brushing over his chest. The hand on his back held him close while fingers circled his nipple, and then Professor Graves leaned down and closed his lips around it, sucking hard.

"Ungh, professor!"

Chuckling against the wet, hard nub of flesh, Graves flicked out his tongue and licked it lavishly, pressing harder on Credence's back to keep him close when the boy shivered violently. He was surprised when Credence pushed into him, fingers in his hair, and swapped their positions, pressing him back against the table until he half sat on it, with Credence standing between his parted thighs.

Credence kissed him hungrily, licking his way into his mouth. Graves was only too happy to open to him, supporting himself on the table with his right palm. His left hand efficiently undid the button and zip on Credence's jeans, causing a moan of relief he unconsciously answered with one of his own when the stretched fabric of Credence's underwear moulded into his palm, cock hot and hard behind it. He teased with a firm grip and a few strokes up and down, before sliding his hand around Credence's waist and to the back of his now loosened jeans.

When Credence nudged his hardness against Graves' groin, the man took the opportunity to slide his fingertips into the back of the jeans, fluttering over the top of Credence's buttocks and down along his crack, pushing his underwear out of the way as he went.

Credence gasped, jolting against him hard. "Sir!"

"Percy, whenever you want, but 'sir' is fine too." Graves laughed huskily when Credence mewled, shuddering helplessly against him while the fingers traced up and down the space between his gently rounded cheeks, jeans halfway off now.

"Oh please, stop, or I'll—"

Graves stopped at once, fingers still but not retracting from inside the back of Credence's jeans. "That close, huh?"

"Yes." Credence rested his forehead against the professors, their glasses—smudged and half fogged up—clanking together. They laughed and, this time, Credence set both pairs aside, then nuzzled against Graves' left cheek.

Graves did withdraw his fingers from Credence's jeans then, using both hands to push his jeans and underwear down past his narrow hips, smiling when Credence whimpered at the way his cock sprang out from behind the fabric. "I can think of something better to do about that then letting you come in your pants."

"Anything, please."

"You beg so sweetly, darling," Graves murmured, pressing a kiss to the corner of Credence's mouth before he pushed off the table and slid down to his knees.

Credence watched with wide eyes and a slack jaw as the man he adored knelt at his feet and cradled his hard, flushed cock like a treasure, pressing soft kisses to the tip and along the shaft, licking here and there in tiny flicks alternating with long swipes of his tongue. Throughout it all, he was looking up at him, eyes dark and hungry.

"Please, professor." He hoped his legs wouldn't give in, so he planted his palms flat on the hall table on either side of Professor Graves for support.

"I've been wanting to do this to you, Credence, this and a hundred other things, since the first day you walked into my class. You don't know how badly."

Credence whined softly, overwhelmed by the confession.

Cradling the base of his cock in one hand and Credence's balls in the other, Graves' mouth slid over the tip, sucking off the salty slickness already collecting there before closing around it, lips tight around the base of it and _tugging_.

Groaning and arching his back, Credence leaned down further, and by the time Graves' mouth was halfway down his cock, he was slouched forward, forehead and elbows on the table, fingers clawing at the pale wood, thumbs hooked under the edge, and panting hard.

The triple assault of the tightness around his balls, the wayward thumb caressing the very base of his cock and pressing down, and the wet mouth sliding up and down his shaft, further down each time, soon proved too much.

"Oh no, oh God, professor... Percy, I..." Credence was puffing out rapid breaths, trying to draw enough air back in to not pass out, and then it was too late and he felt his climax rush through him, and his cock was swallowed down, prolonging the sensation until his knees buckled.

And Graves swallowed it all until the flow stopped. Afterwards, he tucked him away gently, not doing up his jeans however. He stood, turned Credence, and sat him up on the table as he had on the desk earlier. "Was that good, sweetheart?"

Credence smiled impishly and nodded. "So good. I want to do it to you."

"You do?" Graves' tone was teasing. He kissed Credence's flushing cheek, then his neck, lingering there as his kisses turned to licks and bites.

Credence, even while still overwhelmed, felt a returning wave of arousal approaching. "There are a lot of things I want to do to you, sir." A hum made a spot of skin on his throat vibrate, and he gasped.

"Such as?"

"Anything you'll let me do."

At that, Graves raised his head, smirking. "You really are surprising, Credence." He took a step back and held out his right hand.

Credence took it and hopped off the table, letting himself be pulled along down the corridor, eyes moving over the subtly shifting muscles of Graves' back and arms, and then doing the same to his chest and stomach when the man turned, walking the rest of the way backwards, smiling at him teasingly. He was pulled into an airy bedroom, with a large and very inviting looking bed of chestnut wood with striped bedding in white, grey and lilac.

Graves stopped beside it and started to undo his trousers, drawing Credence's gaze downward instantly. "I hope you don't expect the body you saw in that film, sweetheart. That was 19 years ago."

Credence moved closer to him. "What I've seen so far is even more handsome than I expected. Besides..." He fought not to avert his eyes.

"Besides?" 

"I'm nothing more than a scrawny—"

He didn't get to finish, because tender hands took his waist, thumbs on his stomach, and a hot, hungry mouth covered his, kissing him until his lips were red and swollen. By the time he was released, panting and once again painfully hard, he'd forgotten what he meant to say.

Graves knew exactly what he needed to hear, however. He cupped a pink, heated cheek. "Credence, we're going to make love until I've fully convinced you that you are the most beautiful, most desirable, most delightful creature I've ever laid eyes on."

Credence, his natural shyness temporarily eclipsing his earlier bravado, bit his lip, speechless.

Graves looked satisfied with the state to which he'd reduced him once again and finished undressing, revealing long, lightly muscled legs, a tight abdomen, and the fact that he had been greatly affected by the kiss they'd just shared. He stopped undressing when he got down to his briefs, and lay back on the bed, smiling.

"Join me?"

Credence didn't need to be asked twice. He stripped off his low-hanging jeans, shoes and socks, tugged self-consciously at his boxers but left them on, then knelt on the bed beside Graves, who reached out and pulled him into his arms, simultaneously with rolling half on top of him, one leg between Credence's thighs. He chuckled when Credence gasped in surprise, taking advantage of the open mouth by covering it and thrusting his tongue inside.

Credence instinctively sucked on it, groaning when he felt the hardness against his groin twitch. Then his arms were drawn out to his sides, the professor's hands sliding along their length until his hands pressed Credence's into the bed.

Graves looked down at him with heat in his eyes when he slid his cock up and down along Credence's, the extra friction created by two layers of cotton amplifying every sensation.

"Sir," Credence gasped, drawing up the leg which wasn't trapped and hooking it over Graves' hip.

"Tell me, Credence," Graves said, voice deeper than ever as he continued his slow thrusts. "What did you like most about my ill-advised, purely rebellious, venture into porn?"

"I don't know..." Credence groaned when the head of Graves' cock nudged the underside of his. He shivered at the trickle of seed he felt oozing from himself. "Don't know about ill-advised," he gasped, "it brought us here."

Graves smiled. "Such a smart boy, you're so right."

Credence's eyes widened, and he dared a softly murmured, "Thank you... daddy."

"Mmm... so that's what you liked?" Graves seemed amused, indulgent, but his thrusts hadn't slowed, so Credence knew he didn't mind. 

"I liked everything."

"Everything?" Graves leaned in and nipped at the lobe of Credence's ear, teeth closing a little harder on the flesh when Credence's hips thrust up in reaction.

"Yes, every... mmm... last thing, except... I wanted it to be me... uh... doing those... those things to you. With you."

Graves sucked on his earlobe, undulating his hips gently, groaning at the ever-increasing dampness of the cotton separating them.

"Want you... ooh... to do them... to me too... daddy."

"Credence," Graves, for the first time, _growled_ his name, his right hand letting go of Credence's where he'd held it pressed into the bed to tug at Credence's boxers, lifting his hips to make it easier. The fabric caught on Credence's cock, which was so hard and sensitive by then, he cried out at the sudden jolt, the red-flushed head drooling copiously. "Oh no no, baby, not yet!" Graves' hand gripped the base hard, preventing instant release.

Credence whined. He was breathing hard. "Nooo, so close. God, so close, please!"

Graves hovered over him, catching his breath. He smiled. "Wouldn't you rather come with my tongue inside your pretty hole?"

Credence nodded frantically, not trusting himself to speak.

Graves only let go of Credence's cock when the immediate danger of climax was averted. He knelt and slid back on the bed, then flipped Credence over onto his stomach and parted his thighs. Sliding down slowly to lie on his stomach, he winced a little. "You have no idea how hard you make me." 

Credence made soft, pleased noises into the bed sheets, grinding down against the mattress.

"Or maybe you do," said Graves, sounding amused. He pressed a kiss to each cheek, hands smoothing over them in circles, but then he tightened his grip, parting them and sliding his thumbs down along the crack. "Now, remember, you're not allowed to come until I've had a proper taste of you, or I'll have to mark you down to a B."

Credence moaned, burying his face in the sheets. "I'll try not to, professor, but... you can't talk like that!"

"Sorry, baby." Graves chuckled. He licked his right thumb and grazed it over the tight muscle, making Credence jolt a little at the first touch. Then he leaned in, tonguing in a circle around the wrinkled hole, taking pity when Credence squirmed. He kissed it, then flicked his tongue over it, rapidly.

"Hmm..."

"Open up for me, sweetheart, so I can make you feel good." 

Credence groaned. "Feel good... now." But he relaxed under the insistent flicks, giving Graves' tongue tip more space little by little, until he could dip it inside the tight channel. "Ooh!"

Graves began a slow, steady in and out rhythm, removing his left hand and holding Credence's cheeks apart with just the fingers of his right. The other he moved down below him, between the mattress and his cock, just cupping it, nothing more.

Credence pushed into the gentle heat of his touch, moaning luxuriantly, his opening relaxing further, allowing Graves' tongue deeper inside. "That's so _good_ ," he breathed.

Graves agreed with a hum against the slowly widening hole. He sucked a finger into his mouth and began to use it on Credence along with his tongue, then did the same with a second finger, until the boy was so wet and relaxed, he could slide three fingers into him at once, but he made sure to use the lube from his bedside table, and lots of it.

Credence hid his face against the sheets in embarrassment at the squish of the thrusting fingers, then bit down on a mouthful of smooth Egyptian cotton when they crooked inside him.

The muffled groan made Graves repeat the motion—once, twice, three times more, until Credence was shaking and groaning continuously into the sheets.

And then Graves squeezed his cock. "Come on, baby, make a mess of my hand, and my bed."

Credence almost howled, his climax violent in its intensity as he clenched around the fingers inside him and doused the cupping hand with spurt after spurt of his release.

"Mmm, you're perfect, baby. I wish you could see yourself, so tight around my fingers, like you're never going to let go of me again."

Credence stilled completely, then whispered softly, "I'm not." He was only slowly coming down from his high, lying boneless and with his limbs spread out like a starfish.

"You're not?" Graves released the limp, wet cock and leaned over him, warm body covering Credence's back and left buttock, lips nuzzling at the side of his neck.

"No." Credence turned his face as far as he could, looking back at him from the corner of his eyes. "Is that okay?" he asked a little anxiously.

Kissing a flushed cheek, then the corner of the panting mouth, Graves murmured, "That's more than okay, my love. I won't let go of you either, now that I've got you."

"Percy," Credence whispered, awed and indescribably happy. He squeezed around Graves' fingers, which were still a little way inside him. "Will you take me now? Please?"

"I would love that, sweetheart." Percy shifted back. "I have to warn you though, watching you come undone has put a time limit on how long as I can hope to last."

"S'okay," Credence murmured. "I just want to feel you inside me, even for a few seconds."

Percy smiled. "I hope I can do better than that." He moved back, withdrawing his fingers to push a pillow under Credence's hips and apply yet more lube to his stretched, relaxed hole. Then he stood and removed his briefs at last, Credence watching him over his shoulder.

"You look so _good_ , daddy."

Percy gripped his cock hard, closing his eyes for a moment. "No 'daddy' and no compliments until I'm inside you, or there might be a long wait."

Credence laughed softly into the sheets, for which he got a gentle smack to his butt, which was followed up with a tender kiss in the same spot. And then he gasped, because Percy slid between his thighs, holding him open gently, and pushed inside smoothly and easily. "Oh!"

"I'm not hurting you, am I?" Percy ground out, stopping about halfway in.

"No, feels amazing," Credence whispered, sounding awed.

"You do too." Percy pulled out a little, and then pushed back in, a little further this time, until Credence gasped. He repeated this, getting a little further with each thrust, until he was sheathed completely. He stopped, catching his breath, hands on the smooth cheeks, squeezing gently, while looking up ahead rather than at the beautiful boy underneath him.

"Daddy... take me harder, please. I'm yours."

"Oh fuck, Credence!" Percy started thrusting in earnest then, to get in a few strokes at least, stilling a moment each time he was all the way inside.

"Yes... yes... _so_ good!" Credence was determined to make him lose control.

Percy leaned forward, both hands on the bed either side of Credence, not interrupting his thrusts while he covered him again. He was panting against the space between his shoulder blades, chest hair lightly tickling the smooth skin of his back, angle new and different now. The added heat between their bodies made every thrust, and breath against Credence's back, more intense.

"Love to feel you above me, daddy, you're so warm."

"Baby." Percy kissed the word against Credence's skin, the little shiver of the body under and around him bringing him closer to orgasm with trickles of seed inside Credence's channel. Everything was smooth and wet and perfect, Credence's sounds of pleasure interspersed with his breaths and the wet, sticky slaps of their bodies colliding. "Can't hold on... any longer."

"Don't." Credence tightened around him, making him groan. "Fill me up, daddy."

And Percy did, with a grunt, pressing in hard while he came and came.

* * *

They'd rolled around on the bed until they got comfortable, with Credence tucked into Percy's side, wrapped in his arms. His face was pressed against his neck, lips shaping a kiss now and then, fingers twirling playfully in the hairs around his nipples.

Percy smiled. "As soon as we can move again, how about a shower? I feel decidedly sticky, and I've made a worse mess of you."

"Mmm, you did." Credence nuzzled his cheek, then kissed his stubbly jaw. "Thank you for that, Percy."

Laughing, Percy turned his head, brushed a curl aside with his nose to kiss Credence's forehead. "You're very welcome," he murmured against his warm, damp skin. "You're something else, you know that?"

Credence smiled to himself, waiting for him to elaborate.

"I kept thinking of you as this pious little lamb, praying every night, incapable of a single dirty thought, let alone a dirty thought about your old professor."

"You're not old, don't be silly," Credence protested with great annoyance.

Graves laughed. "And you're not a pious little lamb, I guess."

Credence shook his head. "No. I don't think I ever was, I just had to pretend. And I'm just full of dirty thoughts about you."

"Hmm, I'm starting to find that out." Graves raised a hand from Credence's shoulder to run it through his hair.

Credence peered up at him. "Do you like it?"

They looked at each other, smiling softly. "I like it a lot," Percy told him. "In fact, I'm finding I like absolutely everything about you." His eyes roamed Credence's face. "I like how you think, how you look, how you feel, how you smell and taste. I like the little noises you make when you start to lose control."

Credence was going pink, but he replied, "I like how warm and tender you are. I like that, despite that, you don't treat me like I'm going to break. I like how sexy you are, and I think the way you talk alone could make me come."

Percy waggled his brows playfully. "We'll have to put that to the test sometime."

Credence laughed huskily. "It'll work, you'll see."

"I forgot to mention how much I love it when you laugh," Percy told him then.

Credence pushed himself up and kissed him, and Percy held the back of his head and returned the kiss. They became so engrossed in it, they had started moving against each other by the time they came up for breath and were halfway hard again already.

"Let's take this into the shower, shall we? This bed is nothing but wet spots," Percy suggested, sounding breathless enough to make Credence feel smug.

He agreed and followed Percy to the en-suite bathroom, but hovered in the doorway for a moment, looking awkward.

"Everything okay?" Percy asked.

"Can I... I need to use the..." Credence nodded towards the toilet. "I drank a lot of water before class, and it's getting uncomfortable."

Percy, instead of saying that yes, he could, and leaving him to it, leaned against the corner of the shower and smirked. "You said you liked everything about _Gold Rush_?"

Credence caught on, blushing. "Y-yes."

Percy, keeping an eye on him, reached into the shower cubicle and turned on the water, and a steady stream began to pound the tiles. He directed the shower head to one end of the space and held out his hand.

Credence swallowed. "You want me to... in there?"

"Why not? Only if you want to, of course. If you just feel a little awkward about it... it'll go right down the drain while the shower is still warming up."

Walking up to him and taking his hand, Credence let himself be led into the large shower. Percy closed the door by reaching around him, and murmured close to his ear. "Do you want me to kneel for you?"

"No. I..." Credence chuckled awkwardly, the rushing water from the shower making his need to relieve himself rather urgent. "Can I just..."

"Come here, baby," Percy said, reaching around his waist with one arm, leaning their foreheads against each other. He took Credence's cock and held it up between them, tip resting against his own stomach. "May I watch you?"

"Yes," Credence said, sucking in a breath when Percy nudged against him, back of his hand and knuckles gently pressing into him around the area of his bladder. He quivered with the need to let go.

"Don't hold back, baby, it's no different to coming on me. Just a little loss of control, and more of your body heat against my skin."

"Oh, God," Credence gasped. "I'm so ashamed, daddy, but also—"

"Shhh, let go, baby. I've got you." Percy caressed the tip of Credence's cock with his fingertips while keeping up the light pressure on his bladder.

And Credence couldn't hold back any longer, forcing himself to keep his eyes open when he started to piss over Percy's stomach and abdomen, fingers caressing his cock the whole time, gently and tenderly, sliding over it through the wet heat.

"That feels so good, baby, it's making me hard again." And it was, Percy's cock twitched up against Credence's even as his stream continued, and Percy cradled both their cocks in his hand, groaning at the wetness.

"Oh daddy, that's so dirty," Credence gasped out.

"Hmm," Percy agreed. "I love it. Don't you?" He tilted his head to kiss Credence's cheek.

"Yes, I do," Credence admitted, causing Percy to chuckle. He almost regretted when his stream slowed and trickled down to nothing, whimpering when Percy just kept holding their cocks in his hand, strokes so light they were barely there. He knew he'd be hard again in a minute or two.

Percy whispered, "What did I do to deserve you, baby? We're so good together."

Credence agreed with a soft moan as he pressed his lips to Percy's, licking at them, kissing him deeply even while he slowly walked him backwards under the stream of the shower. Once water started raining down on their heads, they started laughing into the kiss, swallowing great gulps.

They took their time washing each other from head to toe, lingering anywhere the gentle soapy stroke of hands felt particularly good. They were both rock hard by the time they were clean.

"Feel like getting dirty again?" Percy asked.

Credence nodded, grinning.

"We can stay right here too." Percy stroked Credence's cock lazily, making admiring noises. "I'd just love to ride your gorgeous cock, sweetheart."

"You... oh! You would?"

Laughing, Percy tightened his grip, and Credence gasped. "I really would."

"Yes, please! I mean... oh my God, how, in here?"

"Well, we're both nice and relaxed, and if you could prepare me just a little..."

"Yes!" Credence tried to tamp down his eagerness, but failed. "What can I use?"

Percy tapped a dispenser bottle marked _Unscented Shower Lotion, for sensitive skin, all natural_. "That should be okay." He turned around, giving Credence a teasing look over his shoulder.

Credence took a deep breath and squirted a generous amount of the smooth creamy substance into his hand. He rubbed his fingers together and drew Percy's hips back towards himself, admiring his arse as he pulled him away from the stream of the shower. "Tell me if it hurts, please."

"It won't," Percy assured him; too confident in his abilities, Credence thought.

He took his time, the first moment a single finger slipped into Percy's hole making him gasp as much as Percy, and he leaned his forehead against his nape. "I didn't expect you to be so hot."

"Oh?" Percy teased, and they both laughed.

"I don't mean that, of course you are. But..."

"I know what you mean, sweetheart." Percy reached back, pulling Credence into an awkward sideways kiss, even while he relaxed enough for a second finger to slip in along with the first. "You're doing perfectly, keep going." His voice sounded strained.

Credence's was too, when he replied, "Can't wait, daddy. Want you so much."

"Just one more finger, just a few more... uh, yes, like that, baby... just like that."

Credence slid his fingers in and out, the excessive lotion he was using and the way Percy relaxed around him, _trusted_ him, making it easy. He was breathing heard, getting adventurous to speed things up, to get into that smooth heat quicker. He twisted his fingers, tried to copy the way Percy had done to him earlier, and then nearly came when he made Percy groan out loud and his knees buckle.

"Fuck! Baby, that's perfect." Percy was trembling. "Need you inside me _now_."

Credence couldn't believe he'd done that to him. He'd put him into that state. He gripped the base of his cock tight, and bit his lip painfully hard for good measure. "Yes, daddy. Like this, standing up?"

"No," Percy said, surprisingly. He turned around, and Credence saw that his eyes were almost black, his face flushed, and his breathing uneven. "Do you mind kneeling on the shower mat?"

"No." Credence took another generous handful of lotion and, as soon as he was kneeling before Percy, coated his own cock with the white substance.

Percy smiled down at him, placed his hands on Credence's shoulders, and sank down onto him very slowly.

"Daddy!" Credence gasped when the head of his cock first breached Percy. He closed his eyes when Percy kept sliding down, impaling himself, but opened them at the low, rumbling groan.

"You feel amazing, baby."

Credence wrapped both arms around Percy's middle, fingers clutching at his back, but then sliding down to his hips. "I hope I don't come in 5 seconds."

"Think about something dull—the last essay I made you write."

Credence laughed softly. "I love your essays. You always write wonderful things on them before giving them back."

"In future," Percy said, then took a deep breath, pushing himself up and down. "I might give them back with hearts and flowers all over them."

Credence blinked, then smiled broadly, and tipped up his face for a kiss.

Percy kissed him, even as he began to rise and fall on Credence's lap, aided by Credence's hands oh his hips, and they continued to kiss, as best they could, while he kept on riding him. They were breathing into each other's mouths with ever shorter gasps, interspersed with more frequent moans.

"Going to... not long," Credence panted.

"Same here, baby." Percy held Credence's lower lip between his teeth, letting it slowly slide out on his next upward motion.

"Aah!" Credence gasped, hands tightening on Percy's waist, holding him firmly down while he thrust up one last time.

"Credence," Percy whispered brokenly, painting both of them in creamy stripes of come.

Credence sobbed into his neck, holding him tight while he came hard deep inside him. "Love you," he murmured very softly, assuming it wouldn't be heard.

Percy cupped his face and tipped it up, and Credence held his breath in sudden fear. "Don't look so scared, baby," he panted, "I love you too."

And Credence smiled, and then he laughed—the happy, relaxed laugh Percy loved so much.

 

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [Tumblr](https://sweetsorcery.tumblr.com/), and we can squee about this and maybe other pairings/fandoms we love. I'm also on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/sweetsorcery) and [Dreamwidth](https://sweetsorcery.dreamwidth.org/). Feel free to drop me a message anywhere. :)


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